Memories
by TextingSconesAndBowties2012
Summary: Rated simply for one swear word. Character death leads to the other remembering there life before all the heartbreak. Slash eventually .  Most probably not graphic :   will be things other than shown in genres but ur only allowed two :
1. Chapter 1

Memories. Chapter 1.

The wind brushes against my cheeks as i walk down the busy London pavement. People pass me, all absentmindedly knocking into my side and never stopping to apologize. They are all idiots. They all are unaware of the tragedy that took place today and all the hurt that has gone on for the last 20 years. They are all stupid.

The tears that began falling hours ago still wet my face, freshly burning my cold cheeks. My breathing is still laboured and i am still having to walk slowly to ensure i don't just simply keel over. But then, that option is becoming increasingly favourable the closer i get to home. 221B Baker Street. Can i even call it home anymore? It wont feel like it, he was what made it home, now it is just some flat in some damp ridden house in the middle of shitty old London.

I used to love this place but without him none of it means a thing. It is all just stuff and they are all just people. Stupid, lucky people who get to go on living there lives because they don't know, they haven't noticed what's missing, who's missing.

I pass Angelos and my breathe becomes momentarily hitched again. But i force my self to blink and move on. The middle of the road is no place to give up. Heck, i should never give up, he certainly never would.

I can still feel the anger inside me. The man that took him away from me will never even be punished, the coward took his own life. Frustration bubbles at the surface too. I could've been there, i could've saved him, i could have at least been there as he left this world, this cruel, cruel world. But no, stupid old me was just a moment too late. And now the chance has gone and all the moments that could've been are just imagined dreams floating in the midnight winter sky.

Finally i turn on to Baker Street but i don't look up. I don't want to see the buildings we passed together, or the taxis we rode in, or the buildings we jumped across. None of it. All of it is simply a reminder of what left this world today. I grit my teeth to stop a growl escaping my lips. I have never been this angry. After counting the steps i stop as i realise im here, 221. I turn, still not looking up, and climb the steps until i reach the rusty old door. Mrs Hudson is there in a flash.

"Oh dear! John. Come in..."She says sniffling. Of course she will miss him, i thought. I didn't want to be with anyone so we simply exchanged pleasantries and she left me in _our_ living room to think. Thinking comes all too easily these days. If he taught me anything it was that thinking can help. But all i can think about tonight is the last 5 years and all the moments that caused tonight to be even more painful.

We started as friends, hell not even that, we started as ___acquaintances_ and we worked up to being in a fully fledged relationship that believe it or not, worked quite well more often than not. But now there is nothing but the bitter sweet memories.

Basiclly what i want to do is plot out the last five years of there life. Starting obviously with a study in pink

Will be slash eventually . Please review. Ideas for there life. Cases . etc : )

Ps hoppe grammer and spelling etc is okay im awful lol


	2. Chapter 2 A New Kind Of Perfection

I have decideed not to do in order after all. Simply because ideas don't come to me that way lol.

All told from Johns POV

**Memories Chapter 2 - A New Kind Of Perfection**

Just Last Year.

_I entered the flat warily after being gone for a few days. It was a small medical conference in the south i had been invited to, which would have been simple enough had i not been living with Sherlock Holmes._

_The night before i left Sherlock decided i had never told him that i would be going away and was offended that i did not deem him important enough to know. We had a massive argument and i left. Simple as. Now i return to find a frighteningly silent flat. At least it was all in one piece, i thought. But then you never can be too sure with Sherlock, my mind then added._

_I slowly climbed the stairs and stepped into the living room. All okay, i noted. I checked the kitchen and the bathroom; they were both okay, which left me with mine and Sherlock's bedrooms. Well, mine was more like a storage room now but i figured he probably would have found something to experiment on. I looked in our room, nothing. Yup, i thought, experimentation on my old stuff._

_This is what you get for leaving him alone, i mentally scolded myself._

_I stood, almost frightened, outside my old bedroom door before silently pressing down the handle and entering the dusty little room. _

_Now, many things surprise me, like when two random people on a soap get together, or when some unknown singer who can't actually sing, gets to number one with some rubbish auto tuned... thing, but the sight that greeted me when i entered the room was one that would change that._

_A smile was suddenly etched onto my face as i cast my eyes over the tangled mess that was Sherlock's body. He was curled tightly around himself, rocking slightly, wearing my favourite jumper and clutching what appeared to be Mr Bear, whom i had introduced to Sherlock a few weeks ago. The feeling of happiness that he missed me so was soon wiped away by the feeling of wretched guilt though, when i realised that Sherlock was rocking lightly due to harsh tears that seemed to have been falling since the moment i left. He seemed to be aware of my presence so i sat behind him and kissed his cheek._

"_Sherlock, what's wrong?" I asked as soothingly as possible._

_He sniffled._

"_i thought you would never come back." He replied, surprising me with his bluntness._

_I sighed at his naivety and moved him to face me before pulling him in for a hug._

_He slumped into my body as the tears stopped falling and he calmed slowly in my embrace._

"_I am never, ever going to leave you! You big idiot." For whatever reason calling him an idiot seems to make him smile when it comes from me. _

_We lay like that for a while, until Sherlock looked up and swiftly moved in for a kiss. He lips pressed passionately against mine and i moaned at the immediate and intense pleasure a simple kiss was creating. Now, as Sherlock demonstrated earlier, the things that it took to surprise me were severely changed that day but what happened next was really what changed it all._

_Sherlock suddenly leapt out of the bed and ran out of the room. I was about to go after him but by the time i had managed to sit up he had already returned with a smug look on his face._

_He stood directly in front of me and then knelt ( i did not notice at the time but he was in fact on one knee) so that his face was almost directly in line with mine._

"_John, whilst you were away i was thinking. I never want to leave you and you said you would never leave me. I love you and you love me. I accept you and you accept me. I understand you and you... umm well you make me tea. What i am saying is i believe this is the appropriate course of action to take when you want to spend the rest of your life with someone." Sherlock pulled out a plain silver band. "John, will you marry me?"_

_Without giving a definite answer i reached out in awe and took the ring from him. That was when i noticed an inscription on the inside._

_JW+SH=A new kind of perfection._

_Without being overly romantic the inscription was sweet and loving, especially for Sherlock. I would have said yes anyway but the ring was definitely the clincher, as i slipped it on my ring finger and whispered a low 'yes' before pulling him for a kiss that was verging on violent, as we both became more and more excited, in several different ways._

_OHHHHHHHHHHH i just love married john and Sherlock. I don't care if it would never happen they are just too god damn cute ! __ plEASEEE REVIEW LOL : P_


	3. Chapter 3  First Sign Of Trouble

I dont think its that good but i have tried to handle the story nicely as well as keeping with characters .

The First Time He Knew.

**3 years before Sherlock's death.**

**John/Sherlock Relationship Status: 6 months dating.**

_It was on 30__th__ of November when Sherlock returned from a trip to see his family. Two days, he said, was short enough for him not to go insane but long enough for Mycroft to leave him alone about visiting for a significant amount of time. It was the first time since i had moved in that he had visited his family for a prolonged period and he told me that he planned to tell them about our relationship at some point during his stay. _

_I knew he would not be hungry after being virtually force fed over the 2 day break but i did have a large pot of tea brewing when he trudged up the stairs. I expected him to come in and greet me in the way he enjoys, (more on that later) But he walked grudgingly past the open living room door and up the stairs. I sat there, dumbfounded for a moment, as i listened to him enter his room and scuffle around a bit before climbing onto his bed. Wait...he is sleeping? There must be something wrong. I reasoned he hated visiting his family but it must be something more, or else he would be moaning to me over tea right now, not sulking in his bed. I put the tea back on the stove and rushed upstairs to find out what was troubling my flatmate...my lover. _

"_Sherlock? You didn't come say hello." I said half jokingly whilst knocking gently on the door. Hearing a faint groan of the words 'Leave me alone' spurred me on further as he was just sulking like a moody teen now._

"_Sherlock, please what's wrong? Im worried." There was silence for a few moments and i was about to speak up again until i heard him move on his bed and walk towards the door._

"_Before i open the door you must know that it is going to be one of those long, relationship changing conversations as well as the fact that you may never tell anyone, ever." He spoke softly through the door and i swear i could hear small sniffles in his voice. Now i really was worried._

"_Okay. Please just open the door." _

_He did so, only to reveal a shadow of the man i was (_And still am) _in love with. He was dressed in his grey pyjamas which left his bruised and battered skin fully on show. He had a scar stretching all the way up his arm and his neck was bruised in such a way that worryingly suggested strangulation. His hands had hundreds of tiny cuts on them whilst his face looked like it had been caved in with a bulldozer. His lips were puffy and blood was seeping through from his gums. His nose looked broken and severely bruised whilst his eyes looked dark and panda like with the right being swollen almost to the point where i don't think Sherlock could see._

_I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a small croak before i broke down in tears. I wept for loved one's pain and i wept with anger and frustration as the urge to find and kill the cause of Sherlock's injuries grew quickly. _

"_Come on John." He said as he led me to the bed we had recently begun to share. I began to feel guilty for my tears but realised Sherlock probably expected this of me. _

"_Questions." He said, as though we were talking about having jam on toast for breakfast. I chose to ignore this though as i regained my composure in order to get answers._

"_Just tell me everything, right from the beginning, no matter how gruesome please don't hold back unless you're finding it too hard." That god for a having a psychologist. You pick up a few things. Sherlock took a breathe and began what was the longest, most heartbreaking and most worryingly rehearsed speech i will ever hear._

"_It was my father. It started when i was six. He used to do it when he was drunk and tell me that no one would believe me. I took it, once a day for ten years before father finally got sober. And for four years it was fine. But when i was twenty i went home to visit and he caught me smoking a spliff and flipped out. He beat me to a pulp and then pushed me down the stairs so that he could blame the injuries on a simple 'trip and fall'. Mycroft and mother did not and still do not know and they never can, it would destroy our family. Ever since then every time i visit home he beats me to a pulp and threatens to tell Mycroft im back on drugs and i need to be put away again. Mycroft would always believe father over me so i keep quiet, hide the injuries until they heal and wait until the next visit and the next beating. I go back for mother. I know ill get beaten but its worth it to see her and ensure she is happy and in good health, even whilst she is living with a monster. This time it was after dinner when he met me on the balcony outside the dining hall after i announced our relation ship. He said that this beating was for being a 'fucking homo'. I lay and took it and then allowed him to throw me a door just as he staged a large explosion with my childhood chemistry set. No one can ever know John. My mother wouldn't be able to take it and my father would kill me. I've got you to live for now." Sherlock ended with a sigh. I only nodded and embraced his body in mine as we laid back on the bed._

_**His father? If i ever meet him im going to fucking kill him. I never ever want Sherlock to go through this again.  
**__So many thoughts ran through my mind but eventually i did concentrate on my crying lover that was cuddled into my body in an almost child like manner._

_**I hope that man dies painfully.**__ I thought._


End file.
